


Relationship Follies

by frk_werewolf (wolfelements)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crazy Teen Love, M/M, One-Shots, all together now!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-23 12:37:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7463580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfelements/pseuds/frk_werewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Folly [fol"ly], noun. The state of being foolish; want of good sense; levity, weakness, or derangement of mind. Otherwise, the relationship of Ron and Draco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lust

Lust [lust], noun. Pleasure; longing desire; eagerness to possess or enjoy.

 

It wasn't love. Ron was very insistent about that from the beginning. It wouldn't do, after all, to have his friends discover that he was head over heels in love with Draco Malfoy. The idea was rather silly, anyway. They hated each other! Draco didn't much care to even discuss the topic, because that would be admitting that they had some sort of a relationship.

A relationship built on hatred and most of all lust. From the moment Ron spotted Draco in the Great Hall at breakfast to the secret meeting in the prefect's bathroom after sunset, Ron wanted nothing more than to strip Draco bare and enjoy. He had slowly learned the many ways a person could get Draco to make noises. 

Lick the inside of his thigh and he'd whimper; bite down on his left nipple and he'd gasp. Ron could remember the day he first slipped inside that scorching heat and nearly painful tightness. Draco had cursed in five different languages at the penetration, only to be reduced to moans and grunts as Ron began to thrust.

"Bloody hell, I hate you," Draco murmured between kisses. Ron didn't bother to reply. Replying meant pulling his mouth away from the sweet taste of Draco's lips, which seemed strange considering the acidity of Draco's tongue. Besides, it was better he didn't say anything, because talking at a time like this could lead to confessing things he had no desire to confess.

Another night and another moment of pure desire and longing for nothing but Draco's body pressed against his own.

"Clothes off, I don't have time for pleasantries," Draco demanded as he entered the bathroom. Ron was happy to oblige.

There was something almost unnatural about the way Draco's back arched during orgasm. A graceful curve of the spine, followed by a groan of ecstasy. Ron felt smug, and happy, knowing that he had caused that noise. He, Ronald Weasley, had made the Prince of Slytherin beg for more. Ron covered half of Draco's body with his own, shivering as he slipped out of Draco, and simply enjoying the ability to touch.

"Bugger all, that was good," Draco said in a soft voice.

"Hmm," Ron replied, "It was."

"Bastard," Draco said, just for show. Ron couldn't help but grin. He rolled onto his side and slipped a hand down Draco's back, enjoying the way his arse flexed at the caress. "Stop touching me."

"Why?" Ron asked, innocently.

"Because it makes me want to push you against the floor," Draco whispered in his ear, tongue darting out to lick his earlobe, "and ride you all night long."

"You could do that, anyway." Ron slipped a finger into the cleft of Draco's arse. He rubbed the opening there, slipping the tip of his finger in and out, before giving Draco a smile. Draco's eyes narrowed.

Before Ron could blink, his back was slammed against the marble tile of the prefect's bathroom as Draco crouched above him. A simple maneuver and Ron was inside that perfect arse, pushing into the clenching heat that was already slick from fifteen minutes before. He could do this all day, simply thrust and thrust, listening as Draco groaned. Draco's back arched as Ron's cock hit his prostate, again and again.

Fast and furious, that was what it was like to have sex with Draco Malfoy. There was no soft and gentle or long and sweet. Those forms of sex did not exist. Draco was too hard around the edges and Ron was too passionate, leaving a slow and loving session boring. It wasn't enough; they had to have more. They had to crawl inside each other, determined to never leave.

That was okay with Ron, because the harder the sex was, the harder Draco came, and the louder he screamed.

Of course, Ron always knew how to screw things up. Lust was one thing, but love was something else entirely. Love required sweet words and soft touches. There was no way Draco would approve or accept the idea of Ron being in love with him.

"I love you," Ron blurted out. Draco blinked down at him, face covered in sweat and arse filled to the brim with Ron's cock.

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, calmly.

"N-nothing."

"Wrong answer," Draco glared. Ron shifted his hips, pausing to enjoy the way Draco's eyes fluttered.

"Fine! I said I love you." Ron closed his eyes and focused on the way Draco's thighs felt pressed against his waist.

"Oh." Draco's voice was strange, almost... Kind. It was enough to creep Ron out. There was a sigh, followed by Draco rolling his hips and causing Ron to gasp. "Is that all?"

"What?" Ron demanded, staring up at him.

"Honestly, Weasley, I already knew you loved me so stop being a prat and fuck me senseless already." 

"...Okay." And so he did. He made Draco scream and then did it again twenty minutes later. After that it was a matter of taking a bath and then parting ways. The only difference in this routine was when Draco kissed Ron in the hallway, openly, and told Ron that he loved Ron, too. 

Maybe it was love instead of lust. Ron glanced at Draco's retreating form, mentally stripping him of his clothes, and decided that it was probably both.


	2. Pride

Pride [pride], noun. The quality or state of being proud; inordinate self-esteem; an unreasonable conceit of one's own superiority in talents, beauty, wealth, rank, etc., which manifests itself in lofty airs, distance, reserve, and often in contempt of others.

 

Draco let out a soft sigh, rolling his eyes upward in order to show his general annoyance at the world. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered with certain people. He glanced over at Ron, who was sitting between Harry and Hermione. They looked cuddly, like best friends having a sleep over. It was a disgusting sight, one that made Draco want to vomit all over the place. 

Not that he would. A Malfoy did not vomit.

"So, okay, you see," Ron was saying. Holy Merlin on a stick, was announcing their undeniable love and attraction to each other so difficult? Honestly, Ron should be happy. He was with the Draco Malfoy. No one on Earth could say the same thing. "It's Draco and I."

"Draco Malfoy," Hermione said, slowly. 

Idiots, the lot of them. Harry was looking like a fish out of water. His mouth opened, snapped shut, then simply repeated the process. Draco nearly smiled. Ah, the enjoyment of tormenting Harry Potter. It was nice to see he could still manage it.

"Yeah, me and Draco. Draco and I," Ron agreed. The adorable redhead, who should have been praising the gods above for this chance to be the lover of Draco Malfoy, turned toward Harry. "Are you okay?"

"Draco?" Harry asked, squeaking. Draco snorted, receiving a glare from the boy wonder in return. Draco said nothing in reply, though what he was thinking--something along the lines of 'you know you want a piece of this'--was easily viewed in his expression.

"I'm serious," Ron offered. 

"B-but, he's Malfoy!" Harry insisted. Draco let out another sigh. "You hate him!"

"On occasion," Ron agreed. Draco smirked, because it was definitely the truth. They still had moments where they wanted nothing more than to kill one another, but that tension usually transferred over to sex. The sex, well, that was just good. Of course, Malfoys were amazing under the sheets.

"Ron, are you sure you want to be with...someone like Draco Malfoy?" Hermione asked. Draco had an urge to speak at that point, to inform Hermione that anyone would be overjoyed to be with someone like him. He kept such things to himself, having promised Ron he would stay out of the conversation. "I mean he's...Draco Malfoy."

"Err, yeah, that's part of the charm," Ron admitted. Draco felt like grinning. "Look, I know this is really weird for the two of you, but can you just...accept it?"

Hermione and Harry looked at each other, sharing twin expressions of utter disbelief, before turning back to Ron. There seemed to be some silent debate over who should speak first. Finally, Hermione cleared her throat and said, in a very supportive tone, "We'll try to trust you on this one."

"I suppose that's the best I'm going to get," Ron sighed. "Okay. I appreciate it, you guys."

Ron stood and walked over to Draco, automatically slipping his arm around Draco's waist. Behind them, Harry stared on in complete horror. Honestly, one would think he had never seen public displays of affection before. Draco snorted to himself. Sometimes living amongst the peasants was such a trial.

"You're thinking smug thoughts again, aren't you?" Ron asked with a smile.

"And if I am?" Draco countered.

"I might have to teach you a lesson for being so prideful," Ron whispered in his ear. Draco smirked.

"I'd like to see you try," Draco returned.


	3. Sloth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was suppose to have two more and I never got around to it. This was written in 2007.

Sloth [sloth], noun. Habitual disinclination to exertion; indolence; laziness.

 

Draco Malfoy could only stare around the room in absolute terror. It looked as though a tornado had rampaged through, causing the hamper to be overturned and dirty plates to be left on the dresser. Draco gulped, fighting down the urge to vomit, as he picked his way through the mess to see a snoring figure on the bed. 

"Weasley!" Draco boomed, watching with joy as Ron jerked in shock. He rolled over, looking up at Draco with bleary eyes. His shirt looked as though it hadn't been cleaned in a week. His hair stood up in every direction, while a smudge of something, perhaps dirt or ink, was standing out on his nose. 

If Draco didn't know any better, then he'd think that Ron had spent the entire weekend lying on Draco's bed like a slug.

"Hey," Ron mumbled, breaking into a happy, if not tired, smile. It should have made Draco feel sappy and love starved. But it didn't.

"Is that all you have to say?" Draco demanded with a growl. He waved his arm at the messy room, once again fighting the churning in his stomach at the utter disgust the sight created. "Look at what you did to my room! I give you permission to share my room, my Head Boy room to be exact, and I leave you alone for just two days and this is what it turns into?"

"I just haven't had the energy to clean, is all," Ron whined. Draco felt a muscle in his cheek twitch dangerously. "What with school work and worrying about you being at that...where were you again?"

There really weren't words to describe the total and complete uselessness that Ronald Weasley could achieve when he put his mind to it. 

"I was speaking with the family lawyer over my father's will," Draco replied, voice completely monotone.

"Oh," Ron shifted on the bed, looking for a moment like he was going to sit up. He obviously decided it was too much effort and remained there, lying across Draco's bed like a present waiting to be unwrapped. "Do you need comfort?"

"On the contrary," Draco began to smirk, "I get everything."

"Oh, bloody hell, you'll be even worse to deal with now," Ron said a bit more cheerfully than he probably intended.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but once again the utter stench that his room was creating made him scowl and fight down that morning's breakfast. "The house elves only clean in here once a week, Weasley. Therefore it is my job to keep it tidy between that. Since you have been spending just as much time in here as I have, then you should share in that responsibility."

"Does this mean I have to get up?" Ron whined.

"Yes," Draco replied stiffly.

"But...I don't want to get up," Ron informed him. Draco grit his teeth.

"For someone who has grown up without house elves to do your bidding, you are amazingly lazy Ronald Weasley!" Draco snapped. He spun on his heal and made his way to the door, tripping over a discarded pile of clothes in the process. Growling, he kicked them away and shot over his shoulder, "I want this place clean when I get back!"

That being said, Draco slammed the door behind him with a satisfying bang. He went to the library to catch up on schoolwork that he had missed in his absence. He planned on staying there until his room was cleaned, or until Ron came to apologize. Or, perhaps, until Madame Pince kicked him out. Still, he wasn't planning on allowing Ron the joy of him aiding in the restoration of his once beautiful room.


End file.
